


Hyperlight Fantastic

by manic_intent



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, That space Hogwarts AU where Reuenthal and Yang are professors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “You always think I’m doing one misguided thing or another. Far be it for me to change the habits of a lifetime. This way, you can repeat your lecture, I can pretend to listen, and nobody has to expend any further effort than they have to,” Yang said.Reuenthal rubbed his fingertips against his temple. “Iserlohn remains neutral only at the sufferance of both the Empire and the FPA. By giving sanctuary to Annerose—”Yang slapped his palm over the table. “She’sfifteen, Oskar. Her brother’s fourteen. They’re children. What’s the point of having power if we can’t protect children?”
Relationships: Oskar von Reuenthal/Yang Wenli
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Hyperlight Fantastic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beingevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingevil/gifts).



> Fic prompt by @GeraiNeon, who asked for a Reuyang Hogwarts AU for @beingevil. 
> 
> I confess I’m not very familiar with Harry Potter—I’ve only read the first book, wasn’t interested in the films, and only really read up on things via wiki when I started to write for Fantastic Beasts. Got so many things wrong as a result, I’m lucky my readers were willing to help me spot-check details. 
> 
> As such, to avoid having to do Actual Research™ for this story, I’m going to set it in the same future timeline as LOGH. I love stories where magic and spaceships live together at the same time (Yoon Ha Lee’s work is a great example: I rec Dragon Pearl for a lighter read, Ninefox Gambit for denser). This will be something along those lines…

“I can’t say that your decisions today were wise,” said Oskar von Reuenthal to his colleague. 

Yang Wen-li slouched into his chair with a yawn. The two professors could not look more different, for all that they were both close in age. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Reuenthal, was tall and handsome in an aquiline way, the imperfections of his mismatched eyes and cold smile only adding to his magnetic air. In contrast, strangers often mistook the History of Magic Professor for an older student: Yang had a careless air and a boyish face framed by an unruly mop of dark hair. 

“You always think I’m doing one misguided thing or another. Far be it for me to change the habits of a lifetime. This way, you can repeat your lecture, I can pretend to listen, and nobody has to expend any further effort than they have to,” Yang said.

Reuenthal rubbed his fingertips against his temple. “Iserlohn remains neutral only at the sufferance of both the Empire and the FPA. By giving sanctuary to Annerose—” 

Yang slapped his palm over the table. “She’s _fifteen_ , Oskar. Her brother’s fourteen. They’re children. What’s the point of having power if we can’t protect children?” 

“Good.” Reuenthal flattened his hand over Yang’s palm. “I was waiting for that look. If you want Iserlohn to stand against the Empire, you can’t keep spending your days drinking and lazing around.” 

“Can’t I leave it to you and Mittermeier? I’m just a history teacher,” Yang grumbled, sinking deeper into his chair and groping for the flask of brandy he stashed in the drawer. 

“The foremost talent of our generation, just a history teacher? Besides, what’s the use of having power if you don’t use it to protect children, hm?”

“That’s not what I said.” Yang found the flask and started to uncap it, only for Reuenthal to pull it out of his hands with a gesture. “Showoff.” 

“You drink too much.” 

“You nag too much. We’ve just effectively declared war on the Empire. We might as well drink to our inevitable demise.” 

“Do you think it’s hopeless?” Reuenthal asked, having thought this over himself for an hour before looking for Yang in the faculty sector. 

“Nothing’s hopeless. Optimism just happens to be a waste of energy. Hoping for the best tends to make people poorly prepared for the worst.”

“So we should start stocking the escape pods?” 

“I’m sure Headmaster Merkatz has thought of everything.” Yang affected a yawn. “The Diffusion field generated in Iserlohn space scrambles hyperdrive travel—anyone trying to jump to us through the Iserlohn corridor’s likely to find themselves popping out in unknown space. Even if ships somehow navigate the field, they’d quickly come within range of the Transmutation Array, which warps the hulls of enemy ships into water. No known fleet can survive that.” 

“The Array can be overloaded with new magic or technology. Who knows what the Empire wizards have cooked up. Hell, it can be overloaded with sufficient sacrifices.” 

“Sacrifices that the Kaiser may or may not be willing to make just to repatriate his child bride.” Yang shuddered, closing his eyes. “I don’t even want to think of that possibility. I loathe people like that.” 

“So do something about it. Attend the meetings. Stop making ill-considered statements to students that stoke panic.”

“It’s their choice if they want to go home. They’ve come to Iserlohn to learn, not to get caught up in a war.” Yang patted himself down for his wand, then held it absently in his teeth as he scrounged for a clean cup. Murmuring a tongue-twisting canto, he tapped the cup, and it filled itself a quarter of the way up with hot black tea. Another canto jumped the bottle of brandy in Reuenthal’s grip back to Yang’s hand, and Reuenthal shook his head as Yang topped up his tea. 

“You misuse your talent,” Reuenthal said, though his gaze tracked Yang’s fingers avidly as Yang put his wand away. “The rare knack of spell-creation, used for conjuring perfect cups of tea.” 

“It’s my ‘talent’. I’ll misuse it if I want. Would you rather I spent my time creating more Unforgivable Curses?” 

“It’d be a more interesting use of your time.” Reuenthal picked up the cup, taking a sip and pulling a face. “Still more astringent than it should be.” 

“I could spend a week or so isolating the cause, or I could just mask it with brandy,” Yang said, repossessing the cup and taking a leisurely sip. 

Reuenthal chuckled. Yang was the laziest wizard he’d ever met, a blessing and a curse. While Iserlohn had always been the expected destination of Reuenthal and Mittermeier, who had been the valedictorians of their schools of magic planetside, Yang had nearly skated through life unhindered by higher academia. He hadn’t bothered to attain good grades in his school, and hadn’t been invited to Iserlohn—at least, not at first. Had the incident at El Facil not happened, Yang might have lived an unremarkable life. 

“Headmaster Merkatz is talking to his contacts in the FPA. They might be able to work out a deal,” Reuenthal said. 

“Merkatz doesn’t trust Trunicht any more than we do. Besides, Annerose chose to come here with her brother, not the FPA. There’s a reason for that. Iserlohn’s usual student intake starts at eighteen.” 

“She doesn’t want to be a political pawn and trusts Iserlohn to stay neutral.” Reuenthal had interviewed Annerose and Reinhard himself. “I’m surprised that she left.”

“Why, because she’s fifteen? Or because she should have accepted her lot with grace? A child bride to an Emperor several times her age, submitting to a lifetime of assault?” 

“Not that. She told me that she apparated herself and her brother to the spaceport, sight unseen. She doesn’t appear that talented to me. It’s a miracle that there wasn’t some kind of blowback. Or that they were allowed on board without papers.”

“Things happen,” Yang said. Reuenthal frowned—Yang had to be hiding something—but before he could ask, there was a soft knock on the door. “Yes?” 

“Professor Yang?” 

“Come in.” Yang straightened up as Reinhard stepped into the room. The child blinked as he saw Reuenthal and stiffened, folding his arms behind his back. Someone had trimmed his golden hair and dressed him in clothes that were too big for him, making Reinhard look even younger than he was. His fearless, unsettling stare swept from Reuenthal to Yang. “Do you need something, Reinhard?” Yang asked, with a gentleness in his tone that Reuenthal had never heard before. 

“Can I talk to you privately?” 

“Of course.” Yang glanced at Reuenthal, who inclined his head and left, trying not to feel dismissed. There was something odd about that boy.

#

After the Kaiser’s forces withdrew from the Iserlohn Corridor, Reuenthal went looking for Yang to celebrate. He found Yang in the densely planted life support floor, talking to Reinhard. Reinhard had grown tall over the last two years, taller than Yang. With his immense natural talent, Reinhard was the youngest student ever admitted to Iserlohn, but he disdained the company of his peers. Instead, Reinhard preferred to stick so closely to Yang that he’d been called Yang’s shadow. Yang took it all with his usual lazy good humour, but the older Reinhard got, the more it annoyed Reuenthal.

“Professor,” Reinhard said as Reuenthal closed in, polite and reserved. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the party?” Reuenthal asked. The question was terser than he intended. Reinhard’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

“All right, you two. Reinhard, I’ll speak with you tomorrow,” Yang said. 

“But—” Reinhard began. 

“I think Oskar’s about to offer to break into his whisky stash. Sadly, you’re still too young to drink,” Yang said with a little wave. “Come back in two or three years.” 

Reinhard backed off with a glare. “You drink too much as it is,” he snapped when he was close to the lifts. The bright red band on Reinhard’s arm with its golden gryphon crest was the last to disappear through the foliage. 

Yang laughed, even as Reuenthal sniffed loudly. “You indulge him,” Reuenthal said.

“He’s a child. Aren’t you meant to indulge children?” 

“Not in my experience.”

“This is why you have a bad reputation among your students.” Yang allowed Reuenthal to pull him into an embrace, to claim a lingering kiss from his mouth. 

“He isn’t even from your House,” Reuenthal muttered as Yang curled his arms over Reuenthal’s shoulders.

“Neither are you.” Yang poked at the crest of the green ouroboros on the band that encircled Reuenthal’s arm. Yang’s yellow band with its crowned fox lay somewhere in his chambers—Reuenthal occasionally found it in the oddest places. “Neither is Mittermeier, or Merkatz, or most of my favourite people. Houses are such an antiquated concept.”

“Keep your opinion to yourself. Stop influencing your students.” 

“The only true way to beat a game you dislike is not to play the game at all.” Yang kissed Reuenthal on the edge of his mouth. “You don’t like it either.” 

“The only way to beat a game you dislike is to beat it,” Reuenthal said, stroking Yang’s back. “By any means necessary. You understand this better than me. We only beat back the Kaiser’s forces because of your underhanded tactics.” 

“We won with almost no casualties on both sides. How can you call those kinds of tactics underhanded? I hate tactics that call for ‘glorious’ death on all sides. Selling someone a lie so they’d die for someone else’s pride, now _that’s_ underhanded.” Yang made a show of looking Reuenthal up and down. “We won, and you still want to lecture me?”

“We won, so I thought I’d help you celebrate.” 

“You don’t have alcohol, and you don’t have tea, how exactly are we celebrating?”

“Come away with me,” Reuenthal said. Impatience and desire turned his tone husky—he’d been hunting for Yang around Iserlohn for half an hour. Yang smiled, warm and indulgent, a look that Reuenthal guarded jealously. If he could have his way, it would be his alone. 

“Professor? Are you still there?” It was Reinhard, at the entrance. 

Yang let out a soft laugh as Reuenthal growled. “Weren’t we going somewhere?” he murmured into Reuenthal’s ear.

#

“That annoying pup,” Reuenthal groused as Yang pulled him to the bed. “I swear, he’s going to accidentally find himself on the wrong side of an airlock someday.”

“Don’t say things like that.” 

“Why? Afraid that I’d go through with it?” 

“You aren’t that ruthless. Reinhard, on the other hand, is going to be a real terror,” Yang said. 

“He already is a real terror. The next time he ‘accidentally’ interrupts us, I’m going to hex him.” 

“Ah, young love,” Yang said, chuckling as Reuenthal climbed onto the bed over him. 

“You’re flattered.” 

“Who wouldn’t be flattered? Reinhard is young, devoted, handsome…” Yang grinned at the face Reuenthal pulled, poking him in the cheek. “And more importantly, he seems to inspire certain people to pay me more attention.” 

“Hah. I know you—you consider devotion stifling. You think this is funny,” Reuenthal said, glowering at Yang as he undid Yang’s belt. 

“Well, now that the Empire has issued an embargo against us, I no longer have network access to my favourite books and films. How else am I meant to entertain myself?” Yang lay back on the sheets, not bothering to lift a finger to help.

“You have terrible taste in entertainment.” 

“The things _you_ enjoy watching depress me. Hmm. Maybe I could get the students to perform plays. Anyone who makes me laugh gets House points.” 

Reuenthal let out a snort as he got their robes open, stripping off pants and underwear with impatient fingers. Yang leaned up onto his elbows to watch as Reuenthal conjured slick onto his fingers, grasping Yang’s cock with one hand and reaching between his thighs with the other. “I love how efficient your magic is,” Yang said, pushing breathlessly into Reuenthal’s grip as he spread his legs. “Efficient and ruthless.”

“Yet you claim not to like ruthlessness,” Reuenthal said. Yang was tight around his fingers, loosening slowly even under the touch of magic. 

“I don’t like cruelty. It isn’t the same.” Yang fell silent but for his gasps as Reuenthal worked him open, eyes closed, frowning as though he were trying to work out a puzzle that only he could see. Reuenthal kissed his throat, sucking kisses over the fluttering pulse that beat under Yang’s skin.

As Reuenthal slicked his cock, there was a loud staccato knock on the door. “Oskar?” Mittermeier asked. “Are you in there?” 

Reuenthal pressed his mouth to the pillow with a snarl. Yang snickered, pushing Reuenthal onto his back. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” Yang whispered, straddling Reuenthal’s hips. 

“He’ll get bored soon and go away.” Reuenthal hissed as Yang sank down on him, the slick heat of his body eating him up—

“Oskar! Are you drunk or something? Yang’s gone missing. Reinhard thinks he might have been abducted,” Mittermeier said. 

“That little bastard,” Reuenthal said, incredulous, even as Yang slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “I’m sure he’s fine,” Reuenthal snapped at the door. 

“Take this more seriously, Oskar. The Kaiser tried killing Yang at least twice this last month as it is.” Mittermeier tried the locked door.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Reuenthal hissed at Yang. 

Yang shot him an innocent look. “Was I? Didn’t someone want to keep this a secret from everyone?” 

“Because _someone_ said he hated gossip.” Reuenthal stifled a moan by biting down on his wrist as Yang ground down with a soft sound, throwing back his head. 

“Oskar!” Mittermeier rattled the door. “If you don’t open up, I’m coming in.” 

“Well, that’d be interesting,” Yang said, because the real terror of Iserlohn wasn’t Reuenthal or Reinhard but the man seated in Reuenthal’s lap. 

“Go away,” Reuenthal snarled at the door, only to moan loudly as Yang rocked against him. There was a shocked silence from beyond the room, then the sound of retreating footsteps. 

“Now you’ve traumatised your best friend,” Yang said, and gasped as Reuenthal flipped them around, grinding deep. Lacing his fingers in Yang’s, Reuenthal braced his weight, observing Yang for signs of pain as his hips pushed forward in a slow rhythm, sliding in as deeply as he could with each thrust. Yang groaned, wrapping his thighs around Reuenthal’s hips, urging him deeper, digging his fingers into Reuenthal’s back. They moved together, taking their time.

#

“There you are,” Yang said as he walked into the Observatory. Reinhard glanced over from where he stood beneath the Cradle, a gold and crystal network of interlocking enchantments and mirrors that could look deeply even into unknown space itself. “You missed class.”

“I needed to think.” Reinhard folded his hands behind his back, looking up into the Cradle. “According to the logs, you’re the last person who used the Cradle.” 

“Probably. I find it soothing.” 

“You use it regularly. Once a week, at a very particular time, for two hours.” 

Yang scratched his temple. “Should you be hacking the logs?” 

“I was trying to see what you could see.” 

“What for? I’m a very boring person.” Yang reset the network with a wave of his wand, each tier lining up neatly against each other into a shining steppe. 

“You’re the reason why Iserlohn agreed to give us sanctuary. The reason why we’re still here, even after the Empire attacked.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Yang walked up beside Reinhard, gesturing at the tiers of gold with his wand. They spun into another formation, angling to pick up threads of the light fantastic.

“Why are you so interested in a house within the Empire? Your Cradle is fixed on a blank holoscreen. Is that how you’ve shaped such cunning strategies? Are you somehow reading the Empire’s secret communications?” Reinhard asked. 

“I’m observing something that’s at a critical part of its season. Try not to spread it around.” Yang patted Reinhard on his shoulder. “I don’t like people crowding me.” 

“I understand. You’ve always told me that you make your own luck,” Reinhard said, so seriously that Yang had to bite down on a laugh. “What are you trying to show me now?” 

“Nothing in particular.” Yang had been moving the formation into a random pattern. It opened up into empty space, pierced with distant stars. 

Reinhard frowned. “I don’t recognise the constellation.” 

“I’d be surprised if you did.” Yang himself couldn’t navigate without a star map.

“Is this another one of your lessons? About the insignificance of humanity, perhaps?” 

“It’s worth bearing in mind. It’d give you humility,” Yang said glibly. “Go for class. Your sister will worry.” 

“I know.” Reinhard looked earnestly at Yang. “You’re a great man, Professor. I’ll take your lessons to heart.”

“Er… good, good.” 

“I don’t understand why you keep giving Professor von Reuenthal chances. He’s hardly your equal in anything.” 

Yang let out a startled laugh. “You think so?”

“I know so.” 

“All right, all right. I’ll let him know. Go. Class.” 

“I’ll be worthy of you someday,” Reinhard said fiercely, and apparated away. 

“Did you hear all that, Oskar?” Yang said, still watching the stars. He started to laugh as Reuenthal dispelled the veilspell he wore. 

“You’re such a fraud,” Reuenthal said, curling an arm over Yang’s waist and glancing up into the Cradle. “If Merkatz hears that you’ve been using the Cradle to watch Empire dramas, he’ll revoke your access to the Observatory.” 

“He won’t. I’ll tell him that I need it to destress.” Yang flicked the Cradle into another random viewpoint, opening it into another set of stars. “The insignificance of humanity,” Yang said, growing pensive. “I don’t think humanity is insignificant at all. If only we were. Maybe we wouldn’t have destroyed our homeworld.” 

“Wouldn’t have spread across the stars.” 

“What good has that done? Our wars grew only greater. Especially the number of our dead. Once, people like us sat on our powers and watched the world grow cruel in a million different ways. We’ve revoked the Statute of Secrecy, but nothing’s changed.”

Reuenthal kissed Yang on the temple. “What can you do about that? What can anyone?” 

“A conqueror, perhaps. Ruling the stars, bending the planets of the known worlds under their will. And yet, what good would that do either? Human governance has always been built on systems of cruelties, small and large.”

“You’re in a mood.” Reuenthal leaned his cheek on Yang’s shoulder. “A conqueror with both the ability and drive to annex both the Empire and the FPA? Someone as interesting as all that doesn’t exist.” 

Yang pressed his palm over the small of Reuenthal’s back. “The will, the drive, the means,” Yang said, and did not look at the space where Reinhard had been. “When that day comes, I don’t know how neutral Iserlohn will be.” 

“Why worry over something like this? Come. The supply shipment from Heinessen just arrived. Wolfgang’s waiting for us to join him for a drink.” 

Yang brightened up. “Brandy?” 

“Wine. Brandy is for people with no taste buds.” 

Yang affected a deep sigh. “Maybe Reinhard will have brandy.” 

Reuenthal scowled. “We’re going.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @manic_intent  
> writing, prompt policy: manic-intent.tumblr.com  
> \--  
> Refs:  
> Made Reinhard closer to Annerose’s age, but leaving everyone else’s ages fuzzy because I’m lazy.  
> Fox: Ninefox Gambit :3


End file.
